Daring to Dream
by animeloveramy
Summary: 'As the rain poured and the mud grew deeper, he looked at the blonde kneeling in front of him. Seeing England sat there, crying like he had never seen before, he almost gave up. But he needed to do this. Had to do this.' USUK mild Yaoi.


**Title: Daring to Dream**

**Rating: M**

**Beta: AnimeAiedail**

**Warnings: Yaoi. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hetalia characters.**

**Summary: 'As the rain poured and the mud he looked at the blonde kneeling in front of him. Seeing England sat there, crying like he had never seen before, he almost gave up. But he needed to do this.'**

**oxo…oxo**

_As the rain poured and the mud that was splattered up to his knees rubbed uncomfortably through his white military trousers, America looked down at his once mentor with something akin to pity._

_Seeing England sat there, crying like he had never seen before, he couldn't help the guilt that tore through him. He hadn't wanted to hurt the man, this man that had always been kind to him…but he needed to do this._

_Looking at the blonde kneeling in front of him, he almost gave up. Almost told him that he would go back, that he would give up this foolish thought of independence. He didn't, but it was hard to keep his resolve. _

_He needed to do this._

_England looked up at him, large green orbs pleading with him. But he just looked at the elder nation with a blank look._ No emotion, no emotion, no emotion! Must not show emotion!

_He knew that, if he _did_ show emotion, then he wouldn't be able to stop. The most he could show was his pity, but that only seemed to make England's sobs come quicker. Watching this man, the man that he adored, respected, _loved _in this state…was torture of the highest degree. And though he knew he had no one to blame but himself, America's heart was crying along with the elder nation._

_But he needed to do this._

_This wasn't just about his people wanting freedom. This wasn't just about the taxes. This was about him, and England. For too long England had viewed him as a little boy, as his younger brother…and America wanted to change that._

_He didn't want to been seen as a younger brother anymore. He wanted to be seen as equal. As something other than family._

_He wanted to be seen as a lover. _

_It was a hope in vein perhaps, but the only way he could see to get what he wanted was to break away from England, to start out on his own and show the great nation that he was strong too. He wanted to be able to protect him, to be able to show him exactly what he could be…if England would let him._

_He had never expected England to fight back quite so vigorously. Never expected the Brit to love the power he had over him so much. So many times he had wondered if he was doing the right thing…but when England told him he was being stupid and that he couldn't look after himself it just made him want to break away all the more._

_He shook his head slightly as he looked down at the pitiful sight before him. The gun England had been using was thrown in the mud along with his own. The war was over now, he had won. He was free. And he wasn't sure what he felt about that._

_But he had needed to do this. _

"_America, please?" came England's emotion wracked voice. It was low and pleading and broke America's heart. He looked down at him again. _

"_You were once so big…" he realised, muttering it quietly. But on the silent battlefield where the only other sounds were the rain and his soldiers' bated breath, it carried easily. He kept himself from wincing as England broke down again, covering his face with his hand and curling up into himself. _

_America's face twisted slightly and he took a small step forwards, reaching out with one hand as if to touch the man he had once called his elder brother's hair. But he hesitated before pulling back. No. No. if he did that he wouldn't be able to hold back any longer. _

_He needed to do this._

_He pulled back, before sighing slightly. _

"_I have won England. I am independent," he told the island nation before walking away from him, and back to his people. _

_The distant sound of England's agonised cries had almost torn him apart. _

…

America woke with a start, sweat dripping from him as he breathed heavily. This was the third time this week he had had that dream and it was only Wednesday.

He sighed heavily before laying a cool hand on his burning face. Why did it have to be this way? He had hoped that when he had become independent, he and England would have become closer. Closer in a way that brothers never could be.

But England hadn't spoken to him for ages afterwards and it had hurt. He didn't regret what he had done and would never take it back, but he did regret the consequences of it. The pair hadn't spoken to each other till when he had joined World War One and even then it had been awkward and short. Things had seemed to get better from then on, and America had been happier….but these days all they seemed to be doing was fighting.

It was frustrating.

He had never stopped loving England. Never had the feeling that caused his revolution worn away but he felt like he was getting nowhere with it. England was as oblivious as ever, and America had the feeling that the man seriously hated him now.

It was the reason he was always suggesting such stupid things in meetings, trying to get the other's attention. He couldn't get it by any other means than being stupid and irritating, so that's what he did. Often though, those stupid ideas and irritating comments were what started the arguments. It broke his heart every time he argued with the island nation, and seeing the underlying pain in England's eyes every time he snarled a harsh comment back.

He sighed again, before sitting up and getting out of the hotel bed he had been sleeping in since Monday.

The world conference that he was here for was actually being held the next day but he had arrived a couple of days early due to the vain hope that, since this one set in London, he might get to see more of England. It turned out he hadn't seen any of him at all. He wondered if the Brit even knew he was here.

To be fair, he hadn't _told _England that he would be here…but he had been round the man's London house many times over the week, only to find him out every time. That or he was just ignoring him, but America didn't think that was the case.

Taking a swig from the large glass of water on his bedside table, he pondered what he was going to do today. Over the past couple of days he had visited some of London's more famous attractions. He had been before of course, but there was something about seeing England's history that he just loved. He wanted to find out everything there was to know about the man, and since he wasn't really on deep conversational terms with him anymore, this seemed to be the only other option.

He also loved listening to all the British accents around the place and hearing how they said words such as 'path' and 'film'.

He chuckled slightly to himself as he thought about the dumbstruck look that would likely be on England's face if he ever told the man about that particular fetish of his.

Then he sighed slightly and shook his head before getting up and changing. Grabbing his wallet, phone and key, he made his way out of the room of the Marriott hotel he was currently staying in; making sure it locked behind him before walking down the many flights of stairs, through the spacious lobby and out into the street.

Making his way through London, he stopped off at a McDonalds to get breakfast before continuing on towards the river. He didn't really have a plan for the day except to perhaps wander for a bit. He was walking through Trafalgar Square when his eyes wandered to the banner that hung over what he knew to be the National Gallery. They were advertising some famous painting or another and he felt himself shrug slightly. He hadn't been there before, ever, so he figured he might as well. It wasn't likely he'd be in there long, it was free and he had spare time. Maybe he should see exactly what it is about art that got all the European countries going.

He felt like laughing as he walked through the doors and into the way-to-quiet-for-his-liking gallery. What would England think it he saw America there? The look that would likely be on his face was enough to get him grinning at the thought.

He wandered slowly through the halls, hands in his pockets as he looked quickly at each painting; sometimes stopping to examine them further. He was about halfway through it and a little bit lost when he spotted a certain blonde standing at the bottom of the long hallway he was in, staring at one of the paintings.

America swallowed thickly as he took in the sight of his former mentor standing morosely in a grey suit and trousers, head tilted upwards as he looked at a large painting of some woman with little cherub people hanging around her head.

He didn't move for what felt like ages, contemplating just walking away, before he found his feet moving him forwards and he was suddenly next to the blonde man. England didn't move, not having noticed America standing there. His eyes were misted, and he didn't seem to be in the room.

America frowned slightly.

"Are you ok?" he asked, causing the older man to jump. He swung his head round to look at the American in surprise, his emerald eyes wide in surprise and his mouth opened in a little 'o' shape.

"A-America!" he stuttered loudly, looking around quickly before lowering his voice. "What are you doing here?"

America shrugged. "I've been in London since Monday. Thought I'd come in here since I haven't before."

England blinked at him. "You didn't come and visit me?" he asked, a hurt in his voice that caused America to frown.

"You were always out whenever I came over. So I've spent most of my time sightseeing. I went to The Tower on Monday. And I did The Dungeons yesterday." He explained, causing England to look away slightly with a small blush on his face. America could understand why. Both The Dungeons and The Tower might have been tourist attractions, but they were also valid parts of the man's past.

"R-really…?" England asked quietly. America nodded with a large grin.

"Yeah~! It was fun, but I'd rather you had been able to come with me~!"

England frowned. "I've already seen them loads."

America shrugged. "Doesn't mean you've seen them with me."

England blushed brighter and stuttered. "Shut up you Git!" he exclaimed loudly before growing even redder and looking down in embarrassment as America couldn't keep in his laughter any longer.

Thankfully, the room was empty but for one security woman who only looked at the American with a small frown. England glared, his embarrassment turning to annoyance.

"Am-Alfred!" England hissed, only just remembering not to call him by his country name around civilians.

"Sorry dude!" America replied through his laughter. "Your face was brilliant!"

England huffed and looked away. America took a deep breath, calming himself down before grinning at the shorter male next to him.

"So, what are you doing here Iggy?" he asked, causing England to eye him suspiciously and sniff.

"I was having a day to relax before the meeting," he replied before the pair lapsed into silence; England going back to looking at the painting while America pretended to do the same, instead watching at the other blonde out of the corner of his eye.

He loved looking at the Brit. His golden blonde hair spiked scruffily around his head and bright green eyes, framed by those big bushy eyebrows that he was always teased for that America secretly loved, sparkled slightly in a way that the younger nation didn't usually see. It made him smile as he stood there, the fact that he was watching the man becoming more and more obvious. It wasn't long before England felt America's eyes on him and turned to look at the taller man.

"What?" he asked in annoyance, "Do I have something on my face or what?"

America shook his head quickly, looking away with a small flush on his cheeks. "Sorry."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Do you want to go and look at the Film Museum?"

America looked up in surprise, blinking slightly at the almost shy smile that was on the other man's face. His own face was a picture as he stared at England for a moment, before a large grin began to grow on his face.

"But I've been there before."

England scoffed before turning to walk back down the corridor. "Doesn't mean you have been with me, does it?" he asked coyly, throwing America's words back at him in a way that made the taller blonde's heart beat faster and his grin widen.

America chuckled slightly before following after the man. He had no idea where he was anyways.

They never made it to the film museum, spending the rest of the day hanging around London looking at the market stalls and watching the people doing tricks along the riverside. It was a long and tiring day, only made longer when America invited the Brit to join him in his hotel room for a drink or two. England had shrugged and nodded, a small blush staining his cheeks.

America groaned loudly in relief as he flopped down onto his bed, England watching him from where he was taking his shoes off with a small smile on his face.

"Good God I have missed this bed!" the American exclaimed, expression blissful as he rested his aching body. England let out a small chuckle, watching as America lay spread on the covers. The younger cracked an eye open, looking up at England's amused face and grinned. Then she shuffled over slightly and patted the side invitingly.

England raised a bushy eyebrow before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. America frowned slightly at the distance before a small smirk lit up his face and he moved quickly, sitting up to wrap his arms around the elder man's waist and pulling him down.

The elder nation's eyes widened as he was forced backwards onto America, face flushing at the feel of the younger man's arms around him and his chest on his back. His breath caught in his throat as he landed on top of the American, the young man's nose nuzzling into his hair.

"America!" he gasped out, struggling against the strong arms that held him. "What the hell are you doing?"

America smiled into England's neck, a sudden confidence overtaking him.

"I wanted to be closer to you," he replied. England paused in his struggling and blinked, trying to peer at the blonde underneath him but unable to turn his head far enough.

"You git," he muttered softly. "Why?"

America looked up, a small blush tainting his cheeks as he opened his mouth to say something before closing it, licking his lips and trying again.

"Because…I-I love you."

England froze, causing America to stop breathing.

"What?" was the Brit's whispered reply as he tried to process what had just been said.

"I love you, Arthur," America repeated causing the elder man to suck in breath quickly. There was a pause. Then England sat up, meeting no resistance as he turned to look down at the blue eyed nation with his own, wide, emerald eyes.

The blue orbs were pleading, begging not to be rejected.

But there were so many thoughts in his head right now, it was hard for the blonde to do anything but sit there and stare at the man who had just told him he loved him. He couldn't even find the brainpower required to tell him he loved him back.

"Arthur?" America whispered nervously, snapping the Brit out of his stupor and causing the man to properly look at the American still lying below him.

Alfred's eyes were growing less and less hopeful as England remained silent. His usual smile had turned into a worried frown and his eyebrows were furrowed nervously.

A small smile came to Arthur's face, and he leaned quickly downwards. Those words had been ones he had wanted to hear for so long, and there was no way he was going to miss this moment.

He crashed his lips messily onto Alfred's, causing the American to gasp under the assault. England's hands buried themselves into his hair, even as Alfred finally allowed his eyes to shut and his hands to lift up, wrapping themselves around Arthur's neck and bringing the man even closer.

England smiled, nibbling slightly on America's bottom lip and deepening the kiss, both of them fighting the other for dominance. Feeling Arthur's more experienced tongue beginning to win, Alfred pulled back with a huge grin on his face.

"So does that mean you love me too?" he asked, causing England to smile softly at his hopefully innocent tone. Leaning down again, he pecked the younger man on the lips before pulling back again.

"Yes Alfred; I love you too."

America's answering smile was brighter than the sun, stunning Arthur with its intensity, and he leaned up before kissing the Brit unexpectedly and bringing him back down again.

Arthur smiled as the battle for dominance started again, this time becoming more heated as hands began to roam. Pulling away, England moved his lips to the other man's neck, at the same time shuffling around so that he was on his knees with his body hovering over the younger man's hips.

America's hands moved in return to cup Arthur's rear, moaning slightly as the Brit sucked and nibbled the skin of his neck. Running his hands down the American's torso, he traced the contours of his muscular chest before beginning to tease the man's nipples through the fabric of his shirt. America let out another groan, squeezing Arthur's cheeks. Then one of the Brit's hands moved again, this time coming further down to play with the tops of his trousers. Alfred gasped, before groaning again loudly as England began to palm him through his jeans.

"Shit Iggy-" he started but was cut off when England captured his lips again, brushing his tongue teasingly against the other's. The American lifted one of his legs up so that his knee was grinding into England's crotch, causing him to groan. Alfred grinned proudly into the kiss, causing Arthur to growl slightly, leaving the America's nipple in favour of undoing the man's trouser buttons.

America gasped slightly as he felt the cool air grace his nether regions, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as England took him into his mouth. Alfred's hands weaved into the Brit's blonde hair as he groaned loudly, panting harshly as the elder nation licked and sucked along his length.

The pair froze at there was a loud click in the doorway, a bright flash following a second or so after. England sat up quickly, wide eyes staring at the pair in the doorway. A very familiar man and woman, the man with short black hair and the woman with long brown locks. The man was frowning softly at the camera in his hands while the woman grinned at the scene in front of her.

"Damn," the man cursed emotionlessly. "I forgot to turn off the flash."

"Japan?" America gasped slightly, sitting up quickly to cover his exposed manhood. "Hungary? What are you guys doing here?"

"Why the hell are you taking pictures of us?" England snapped before they could answer, causing Hungary to laugh loudly.

"The answer is yaoi my dear friend; the answer is yaoi."

Arthur growled before getting up. Hungary placed a hand on Japan's shoulder.

"Good work Kiku. Now I believe it is time to retreat."

Japan nodded. "Hai, I agree," he replied, watching England wearily before following Hungary quickly out of the room.

"Hey!" England yelled, tearing off after them. "Get back here and give me that fucking camera you wankers!"

"Arthur!" America called out, but England was gone; leaving America with one hand outstretched and the other covering a now rather erect problem.

Pursing his lips, he sighed before getting up and walking to the bathroom. It looked like he was going to have to finish himself off. England wasn't likely to be back until he got that camera and there was no way Japan or Hungary would give it up willingly.

He sighed before smiling slightly. England loved him. Truly loved him.

Even with his growing problem he felt that this had been one of the best days of his life, and they were only going to get better.

**oxo…oxo**

**Dear readers,**

**I don't know what to say…thanks for reading…please review…no flames though if you please…ta…love you all…**

**Animeloveramy **

**Well, interesting first venture into lemons, hopefully the first of many more to come :) we shall see...**

**AnimeAiedail**


End file.
